


Let Me See What You Can Do

by EliseVanderG



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Gen, Geoff only appears at the end, M/M, Mama Haywood is the best, Original Character(s), Ryan and Meg are siblings, Sibling Bonding, Vagabond backstory, by committing mass murder, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 07:45:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15044072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EliseVanderG/pseuds/EliseVanderG
Summary: "Ryan was a good kid, okay? He did well in school, he had a small but tight knit group of friends and was on friendly terms with everyone else in his grade, and the other teachers never complained about his behavior. But the guidance counselor had it out for everyone and she made the mistake of coming for him."How does little JR from small town Georgia become the Vagabond of Liberty City and Los Santos?





	Let Me See What You Can Do

**Author's Note:**

> I said MAL would be my only work but I'm a dirty, dirty liar. 
> 
> Before y'all dive into this, this is in the same 'verse as My Azure Love and serves as a backstory for Ryan. There is a sexual underage relationship in there as well as drug use and dubcon/noncon in multiple instances so be aware if you continue to read. If you want to skip to the end notes, I'll include what those scenes are.
> 
> Thanks so much!

It started with a notebook in seventh grade. It was just a way to vent his anger, initially. Ryan wrote on a page in the middle of the book ‘HATE THEM’ and then wrote the names of whoever pissed him off at that moment. The first name was the school guidance counselor.

Ryan was a _good_ kid, okay? He did well in school, he had a small but tightknit group of friends and was on friendly terms with everyone else in his grade, and the other teachers never complained about his behavior. But the guidance counselor had it out for everyone and she made the mistake of coming for him.

The guidance counselor got sick, somewhere in the middle of the year, and came back after a couple of months with bright red and splotchy skin, a surgical mask on her face and a can of Lysol in her purse. The principal held an assembly and told everyone that the counselor had a weaker immune system than everyone else and Ryan had an idea.

He came home to his sister, sick with a bad virus and hacking up a lung every two minutes. He hugged her tightly and stayed with her until his mother shooed him away, scolding him for getting close to her when she was so sick. Ryan laughed and went into his room. A few days later, he woke up for school feeling horrible yet happy his plan worked.

He walked past the counselor and coughed on her as they passed one another. He sneezed into his hand before fetching an item she requested. When she was distracted, he took a swig out of her water bottle.

She didn’t come back the next week. Three weeks later the principal had another assembly to say the counselor had passed away – her immune system was so weak she couldn’t fight off the flu. Ryan didn’t outwardly celebrate but he was extremely satisfied with himself.

\--

The second was Patrick Henry. A prick of a boy, he was in the year above Ryan and lived on his block. He was a bully and loved to pick on Ryan, calling him a girly-boy because he kept his hair longer than normal. Ryan wrote his name in the notebook multiple times.

It all came down to one moment. In the Georgia summer sunset, kids played in the quiet street together before their parents beckoned them in for dinner. Near the more quiet end of the street, by the small shotgun style home that belonged to Mr. Ogden before he passed and now sat vacant, Patrick had Ryan pinned against the shaded side of the house with a forearm to his throat.

“The fuck are you gonna do,” Patrick smirked and pressed harder. Ryan gasped for breath, his nails digging into Patrick’s wrist and hand. The boy covered his grimace at the pain and released him under the pretense of no longer finding the situation entertaining. He began to walk back around the house, trying to hide the fact he was rubbing his hand. Ryan glowered at him and picked up the tire iron he sighted earlier. Bringing it above his head, he slammed it down onto Patrick’s. The boy stumbled and almost cried out but Ryan shoved him face first onto the grassy ground.

Patrick flipped over onto his back and gasped as blood trickled down his face. Ryan loomed over him and loved that the bigger and older boy was on his knees staring at him in shock and terror. He raised the iron once more and swung it back down. Patrick’s yell of pain was muffled by the dirt as he fell into it once more. And Ryan didn’t – nay, couldn’t – stop. He brought the iron down again and again and again. When he realized Patrick wasn’t moving, that Patrick didn’t even have a head anymore, he stopped and fell to his knees, wondering what the hell had he done. 

Sure he had caused the counselor’s death some months before, but he hadn’t taken her life with his actual hands like he had just done.

Ryan swallowed thickly and looked around. The sun had set. His mother would be calling him in soon. He rolled Patrick’s body closer to the house and out of sight and went home through the backyards. He ran upstairs and washed his navy blue shorts and black tee shirt in the shower, watching the red water drain and eventually run clear. He washed his socks and sneakers too and set them to dry in the window in his room.

He fell asleep in his room for a few hours after dinner then woke up and crept into the garage. He stole some contractor garbage bags and his grandfather’s handsaw and snuck out the backdoor. Patrick’s body was still there but some bugs and flies were already feasting on the blood. Ryan shooed them away and began to saw him into pieces, making sure to cut at the joints like a chicken. He bagged them up then dragged him into the woods that lined their neighborhood. Ryan buried an arm here, a leg there; part of the torso went into a tree for vultures. There was a small river and he washed out the bags there as well as the boy’s clothing he removed before dismembering him. He bundled the clothes and bags into a hollow tree after realizing he didn’t know what to do with it.

He snuck back into his house and fell asleep.

The next morning, there was a deputy’s patrol car in front of the Henry house and all of his neighbors were peeking out the window.

“Oh that’s just a shame,” Ryan’s mother shook her head.

“What happened?” Ryan rubbed his eyes sleepily.

“The Henry boy, Patrick, didn’t come home last night. His parents are reporting him missing. Did you see him?”

“Maybe a glimpse of him before you called me in for dinner,” he shrugged. “I’m not really friends with him so I didn’t play with him.”

Ryan’s mother ran a hand through his hair and nodded. “I know, I know. Go get ready for the day, honey.” Ryan nodded and went upstairs. When he came down, there were more officers on the street and one was talking to his parents. He stopped on the stairs, breath caught in his chest, before he continued down slowly and warily.

The deputy asked him when was the last time he saw Patrick, where the boy was when he saw him, and if anything had happened before his disappearance. Ryan answered the questions truthfully as they weren’t asking the right ones to get the right information. Then the deputy asked if Patrick was his friend. Ryan hesitated.

“No,” he began and paused. “He’s a bully. He’s got only two friends but he bullies everyone else on the street.” The deputy thanked him and commented to his parents that every other kid on the block said the same thing about Patrick.

A search party was organized and began to scour the woods. The calls of ‘Patrick’ echoed throughout the day into the evening before the sheriff called it a night and said they would start again in the morning.

Ryan snuck out again that night with some paper towels, a water bottle full of oil, and a Bic lighter. He went to his hollowed tree and took the bags and clothes and went farther into the woods until he was more upriver. He set the bags and clothes on fire with the paper towels as tinder and the oil an accelerant. He then used the bottle to collect river water and put the fire out. He shoveled the ashes into the river and watched it flow passed him.

He went to check all of the places he buried pieces and the tree he’d put the torso in. It was nearly picked clean already and the buried pieces were covered in ants, flies, and beetles. He bit his lip, wanting to move it, but ultimately decided not to for it would leave a trail.

He stopped by the Ogden house and looked at the tire iron. He hid it in his garage for the next night where he went back out to the river and created a camp fire. He set the iron in the fire to let it burn the dried blood off and then threw it into the water to cool it down. Finally he brought it back to the house and put it where he found it.

The search parties continued and the sheriff even held a news conference, pleading for the return of Patrick. The efforts moved from search to recovery when a human rib fell out of a tree and onto a volunteer’s head. They brought in cadaver dogs that located the other pieces of the boy but were unable to find any other evidence.

Ryan went onto eighth grade feeling better than ever now that his bully was gone.

\--

Ryan was in ninth grade when he got jumped outside the only convenience store in their small ass town. They hurled slurs at him and dragged him by his hair before throwing him into the dumpster in the back of the store. He dragged himself home after that and tried to patch himself up as best he could but his sister opened the bathroom door and gasped.

“Who did this?” She demanded. Ryan waved her off.

“It’s fine, Meg. Really,” Ryan put a Band-Aid over a cut on his forehead.

“What are you going to do? Are you going to kill them like Patrick?”

Ryan froze and looked at his sister through the mirror. She smirked at him.

“I know it was you. I’m glad you did it, he was a real asshole. Are you going to get these guys back?”

Ryan nodded, still unable to say anything. Meg grinned devilishly and pulled a switch blade out of her pocket.

“I have a few ideas I’d like your opinion on, sweet brother.”

Ryan and Meg lured those stupid boys behind an old factory that used to be the cornerstone of their town’s economy. For all that they cursed Ryan for being gay teenagers loved sex from anywhere they could get it. Ryan kept his touches feather light compared to their eager hands. They all but tore his shirt off and yanked his pants down to his ankles. One bit his neck hard and began to suck while rutting against him. Meg was hiding but soon jumped out with a nearby two-by-four and whacked them all unconscious.

Ryan got dressed again and wiped the spit off his throat. Meg handed over a switchblade and they kicked the boys onto their stomachs. Ryan was the first to do it. He buried the blade in the back of the first boy’s neck and cut upwards, severing his spine. His body stiffened then relaxed and his breath left in a shudder. They repeated it until all five of them were dead with small incisions. They took out some plastic bags and tied them to their shoes and wiped their tracks away before fleeing. They burned the bags in a steel drum about a mile away.

It was all over the news the next day. Five teenagers found murdered behind the old factory, stay tuned for more at five!

Ryan’s parents didn’t want their kids out past sunset and the sheriff and mayor initiated a curfew, no doubt also remembering the ‘abduction and murder’ of Patrick Henry as well. They enrolled their children into self-defense classes and got gun permits and took them to the shooting range.

When Ryan was a sophomore, he got his license and he began to go to other towns to see what they offered. That was where he met 24 year old Oliver. Ryan flirted with him and then went back to his apartment where he lost his virginity that same night. Every weekend he’d visit Oliver until one weekend he found his boyfriend buried in the girl from apartment 1C. Ryan’s temper got the better of him and he snuck up behind his unfaithful boyfriend, taking out his well-loved switchblade. He swung down and dismembered his member before burying his knife into his chest. Oliver gasped and turned to see Ryan behind him. Ryan threw the severed member at the girl’s head and pulled his knife out of Oliver’s chest, letting him fall dead against the bed.

The girl didn’t realize at first what happened but soon gasped and tried to scream. Ryan pushed her head against the pillows to muffle her. She managed to get away from him and he chased her into the bathroom where he tripped her up. She fell forward, slamming her head against the toilet bowl and breaking it. Blood began to pour out and Ryan yanked her head up enough to slit her throat before dropping her back onto a large shard of porcelain. He left the apartment after cleaning himself off and drove home.

The good thing about being sixteen and having a much older boyfriend is that no one knew because it was technically an illegal relationship. The only person that knew Ryan even had a boyfriend was Meg and that was in case anything happened to him while visiting Oliver.

When the news reported the deaths of a 24 year old man and a 27 year old woman and showed footage of the apartment complex, Meg turned to Ryan with an eyebrow raised. She came into his room later that night and repeated her expression.

“He was cheating on me,” Ryan choked out and Meg hugged her brother tightly, letting him cry into her shoulder.

“Then he deserved it, just like everyone else.”

\--

Ryan was eighteen and a boy from small town Georgia trying to make it in big Liberty City. He was there for his first year of college learning computer science at Columbia. Meg hugged him tightly and when their parents were distracted with bringing his belongings up, she handed him a nondescript black case. He opened it to find a handgun, multiple boxes of bullets, a silencer, and about six knives.

“I had to sell some drugs for a few weeks to get the silencer,” she shrugged. “Protect yourself and have fun, sweet brother.”

“I will,” Ryan smiled and hugged her once more before hiding the case under his bed.

Freshman year was _fun_. He made a lot of friends and they went on adventures in New York and New Jersey. He did well in school and made Dean’s list both semesters and had joined a few clubs. He was approached by a modeling agent and did some ads for some extra money and had even dated a few people.

But he was anxious for some reason. He felt like he needed to be doing something he had neglected. One night he snuck out of his dorm with three knives in his pockets and his gun with the silencer attached on his waist. He left his long hair in a ponytail and wore his beloved kilt and just walked aimlessly. Passing two buildings, his hair was pulled harshly and he was slammed against the brick wall, a knife digging into neck while two other hands began to hike his kilt up. Ryan looked up at the sky and smiled. This was what he was waiting for.

He dug his thumbnail into the hand holding the knife and the attacker let go in shock. Ryan grabbed the knife and stabbed the man in the side of the neck before kicking the second man off him. He pulled his gun out and fired two muted shots, hitting both of them in the forehead. Ryan leaned over them and curiously dug his finger into a bullet hole. He could feel the slug.

The police in Liberty City had a lot more resources than rinky-dink nowhere-ville Georgia so he dug the slugs out of their foreheads and pocketed them before leaving.

\--

One of his many friends sold drugs. The group of them would go to his apartment that his rich parents paid for and smoke, snort, and inject all night long. Ryan would normally smoke a blunt but stayed away from the harder things. That night, he refrained from all drugs and watched as the group got more wasted as the night dragged on. He only knew six of them; the other twenty were druggies looking for their next hit. There were two girls sprawled on the floor, underwear tangled around their ankles and rubber bands wrapped around their skinny arms.

By three o’clock, everyone except Ryan was passed out. He took a pack of cigarettes off the coffee table and lit one, taking a long drag before he went into the guest room where he kept his jacket. He took out the unopened box of ammo and his gun, screwing the silencer on and loading the magazine. He went back into the main area and began to fire at the prone bodies. Once he hit thirteen, he reloaded and finished them off. He put out the cigarette in the ashtray, got his jacket, and left without looking back.

\--

The next year, Ryan went to a party with his agent and some other models. There were fashion designers and the who’s-who of Liberty City rubbing elbows. Ryan smiled prettily at some of them and an older man, about forty or fifty, was laying it on thick all night. He was an investor who worked with a lot of fashion houses and so if he favored a model, the label would use that model. He invited Ryan and a few others to his penthouse. Immediately, two girls fell to their knees for him and Ryan averted his eyes.

The man grabbed his chin, his face an unattractive shade of red as he groaned in pleasure.

“Nervous, Blue Eyes,” he muttered and tangled a hand in Ryan’s hair. He pulled Ryan forward to kiss him but he turned his face at the last second. The man reared back, face now flushing in anger. “Do you know who the fuck I am? I can make or break your entire career!” Ryan glared at him and pulled his gun from his jacket. The girls screamed but Ryan ordered them to be quiet and had the two girls, the man, and another male model up against the far wall of the kitchen.

“What do you want? I’ll give it to you, I swear,” the man now begged for his life. Ryan smiled.

“Honestly, I want nothing except to kill you. It’s become a bit of a habit actually.” He struck the two girls in the head and they collapsed in a heap. The other model began to cry hysterically and Ryan rolled his eyes before killing him. Ryan dug out the slugs from their heads and tore off a paper towel before grabbing a kitchen knife. He handed it to the man. “I think you know what I want.”

The man cried like a child and shook his head, pleading to be let go but Ryan stared at him blankly. Finally the man relented and dug the knife into his wrists. He bled out under Ryan’s watchful eye.

\--

The investor apparently had connections to the mob. Ryan was coming back to his dorm from a shoot when he was roughly grabbed and thrown into a luxurious SUV. He was stripped of his jacket and weapons and gagged and blindfolded. When he was taken out the car, he was carried into a building and taken to a lavishly furnished office.

“We’ve been watching him,” the man behind the desk pointed at the television screen. It showed the investor with the two girls on his arm and Ryan and the other model just behind them, entering his apartment building. “He owed us a lot of money, hundreds of thousands.” The mob boss was younger than the investor, maybe in his thirties with russet colored hair and bright hazel eyes. “Because of you, his family received a nice payout from his life insurance policy and I was able to collect on my loan, plus interest,” he grinned. He nodded to the person next to him, some guard. He placed a black backpack on the desk and opened it. “I give thanks where thanks are due. I know you didn’t set out to help me, but you did. Take this money as a token of my appreciation. Go on, look at it.” Ryan slowly got up and looked into the bag. Wads of hundreds filled it. There must have been ten to twenty thousand bucks in there. He looked at the mob boss.

“Thank you,” he zipped it up and slung it over his shoulder.

“One more thing,” ah, the catch, Ryan mused. “You did such a good job, would you mind a repeat performance?”

“I’m not joining a mob or crew,” he scowled and the man raised his hands in surrender.

“That’s fine. A freelance mercenary then,” he smiled again. “I’ve a list of people that I need to collect from. I’ll pay you handsomely for each one and you can take as many jobs as you want.”

Ryan thought about then sat down. “I’m listening.”

\--

Ryan took a sip from his Slurpee and kicked his legs idly from the roof of the six story building. A block away a building was up in flames as firefighters struggled to control it. Inside were four dead bodies, not that the firefighters or police had discovered them yet. The police scanner next to him had the volume on low and was constantly transmitting what was happening.

Meg was reclined next to him and let out a massive belch.

“You’re disgusting,” he scrunched his nose up at his sister. Meg laughed and burped again just to spite him.

She was visiting for the summer from California where she attended college and wanted to help Ryan with some of his work. She was making a name for herself in Cali where she was known as Doll Face on the streets. Ryan had gotten himself a nickname too. The Vagabond was what mobs, gangs, and crews called him because he fluttered from one to the other, only loyal to any one group so long as they paid the most. He had taken to wearing a black mask to hide his identity though Rory O’Shea was the only boss who knew what he actually looked like.

They still went out for dinner sometimes and Rory’s wife, Alexandra, was a great cook.

His attention was brought back to the present when the building exploded as the flames reached the punctured gas lines in the basement. The evening sky was a brilliant and violent red and black as smoke billowed into the clouds.

It was beautiful.

\--

The police officer was lucky in that he was in the right place at the right time to see the infamous Vagabond leaving the scene of the crime. He just managed to radio in his position before he fell to the ground with a pretty hole in between his eyes. His partner jumped out of the patrol car and began to fire at him. He ducked behind a car and fired back, striking the cop twice. One got him in the chest and the other in the throat. Ryan jumped in the patrol car and Meg slid in next to him before he took off.

Meg took out her semi-automatic and rolled down her window as over a dozen cops began to chase them. She began firing at their tires and the first three lost control and veered into the others. One flipped over completely.

Ryan led them over a bridge and Meg took out some frags from her case. She lobbed them into the herd of police and the siblings laughed as the cars were blown sky high. That took the police off their trail and gave them time to ditch the car under an overpass. They set it on fire and Ryan turned his jacket to the reverse side. Meg did the same and they pocketed their masks, high fived each other, and then made their way onto the subway and back to Ryan’s shoebox apartment.

\--

As much fun as Liberty City was, Ryan felt like the walls were closing in. By that time he had done some work for all the major crime bosses and had a network vaster than the public transport lines. Everyone wanted to hire him to take out someone he knew. It was time to go, especially after the Esposito fiasco.

He packed up his life, told his clients he was moving but would continue to work with them online, and went to Georgia for a couple of months. His parents were elated to see him again.

Ryan was up late one night working on some tricky code for a client when his mother came downstairs for something to drink. She kissed his forehead as she passed him and took out a glass and some juice. She filled her glass, refilled his empty one and just sat in front of him while he finished. When he was done, he sighed in relief and closed his laptop.

“Hi mom,” he smiled at her and she smiled back. He had inherited his bright blue eyes and sandy blond hair from her but Meg inherited most of her facial features.

“Hello baby boy,” she took a sip of her juice and hummed. “I was so worried about you when you were in Liberty City,” she said it quietly, like she wasn’t allowed to confess it.

“I’m fine, see? I know what the news must sound like with everything happening there.”

Ryan’s mother dropped the small smile from her face and her eyes darkened. “You know what I mean, James Ryan. I was afraid you would be caught or killed in a shootout or something.”

Ryan stiffened in his seat, unnoticeable to the average person and his expression remained relax. “What are you talking about, mom?”

“You don’t think I didn’t notice, JR?” She grabbed his hand and held it tightly. “I think I always knew…since Patrick Henry…but it was when that man a few towns over, Oliver I think. When he was killed, I knew.”

“Mom,” Ryan began, flustered.

“I knew you were seeing someone. You were always taking the car every weekend and ‘spending the night’ a lot. I was once a teenager too,” she gave him a wry smirk. “But then one night you came home early and I heard you and Meg. You were crying and said he cheated on you and you walked in on them. That the girl was his neighbor…and then the next day that’s reported and then the day after the police reveal that the two victims were neighbors. It made me see things that I was willfully ignoring.”

Ryan sat speechless.

“I know you killed those boys behind the factory. I know Meg helped you too. You were carrying yourself gingerly, like you were hurt, and then after their deaths you were so at peace, like you didn’t have to watch your back when you left the house. You killed Patrick Henry because he was an asshole, I’m not mad at you.

“And then you go to Liberty City for college and the gruesome murders slow down here and kick up there. Twenty people killed at a party, all of them shot once in the head and then the bullets were removed,” she shook her head. “The investor and the three models even though four were captured on camera going up to his penthouse,” she let out an incredulous laugh. “Not to mention your sister,” she shook her head once more. “Meg left for California and the murders stopped here and the crimes picked up where she was too. And then she visited you in Liberty City and thirty cops are killed by two grenade throwing maniacs.”

Ryan swallowed.

“I’m not saying I understand why you need to kill so many people, the both of you, but you’re not careful enough and you’re not careless enough either.”

That…was not where he expected this conversation to go.

“You either have to be more careful to avoid getting caught or go big, be unapologetically chaotic and untouchable so the cops are afraid to approach you alone and you can escape while they wait for backup,” she looked him in the eye and held his gaze.

“Does dad know?” Ryan choked out.

“Your father is an idiot and hasn’t noticed. All the dots are there and numbered and he’s too stupid to pick up the pen and connect them,” she rolled her eyes and left the kitchen, waving for Ryan to follow her. She went in the cellar and moved a false wall. “Reach in.” Ryan pulled out box after box. Some had ammo and there were at least four handguns and two shotguns and even a sniper rifle.

“Mom.”

“Some of those are for Meg, there’s another sniper rifle in there. I want you to protect yourself the best you can, JR. I’m not happy you’ve chosen this life, but you know how I raised you. I’ll support and love you no matter what you choose.” She grabbed his cheeks and lowered his head to kiss his forehead again. “I’ll see you for breakfast, baby boy.” She left him in a daze in the basement.

\--

“Relax Geoff,” Ryan slapped his chest and walked up the stairs to his childhood home. “My mother isn’t going to kill you.”

“What about your father?”

“He won’t do anything either, trust me,” Ryan smiled and knocked on the door. It swung open to reveal Meg.

“Hello, sweet brother,” she sang and reclined in the doorway. Geoff sputtered.

“What is she doing here?”

“ _I_ ,” Meg raised a mocking brow, “was raised here. Ryan, did you not tell your man that Doll Face was your little sister?”

“It may have slipped my mind,” they smirked at one another before she moved to let them into the house.

“Doll Face is your little sister?” Geoff hissed, gripping Ryan’s arm in fear. “You know trouble’s been brewing between our two crews!”

“That’s just Meg being an annoying sister and trying to play with her brother’s toys,” an older woman, not quite fitting into the elderly category, said from the doorway into the kitchen. Looking like Meg but with Ryan’s lighter hair and bright blue eyes, she was obviously their mother. “It’s so nice to meet you, finally, Geoff,” she hugged him and kissed his cheeks.

“Hello, Mrs. Haywood,” she tutted and told him he could just call her mom.

“Mom knows what we do,” Meg brought out a pitcher of sweet tea and a stack of tumblers. “She got us our first sniper rifles too,” Meg beamed at her mother. Ryan nodded.

“Can’t hide from her,” he laughed and poured his fiancé some tea.

“I’ve known since Ryan was sixteen,” Mama Haywood sat down and began to tell Geoff all about Ryan’s first kills while her children took over fixing dinner in the kitchen.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I totally got the Oliver scene from Dream Home which is a Hong Kong horror movie and one I've seen multiple times because I find it that funny (it's not a funny movie btw). 
> 
> If you skipped from the beginning notes: Ryan uses the promise of sex to lure some boys into a trap, he has a sexual relationship with an adult while he's still a minor, there's an attempted rape when Ryan is in college, and a man abuses his authority/position of power to coerce people into having sex with him.
> 
> Thanks again!


End file.
